


WAG: Winning And (being) Greatest

by tillyenna



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Retirement, Stanley Cup Finals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25494769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillyenna/pseuds/tillyenna
Summary: Sidney's coming up for retirement, and he and Nate have always said that when he retires, then they'll come out, and he'll move to live with Nate.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Nathan MacKinnon
Comments: 34
Kudos: 239





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in an evening. WTF?

\--

They first talked about it years ago, in the abstract of course, sat on the dock, staring out across the water, the calm of summer surrounding them.

“Would you ever come out?”

Sid had shaken his head, and then, with a moment’s pause and consideration added, “Not while I’m playing.”

“Oh.” Nate had stared down at his hands and tried very hard not to be the needy kid he thought Sid sometimes saw him as.

“I know,” Sid reached across, and took one of his hands, holding it tight. “It would be good, being able to be ourselves, not having to worry about how we are around each other.” He pulled a face, “But the media attention would detract from my hockey – I can’t have that, I don’t want that.”

And the thing is, Nate understands, he gets the problem that the media is, for Sid more than it is for him, because Sid hates it more than he does. “What about when you retire?” He asked quietly.

Sid had shrugged, “At that point,” he shot a grin over to Nate, “It’ll affect your career more than mine,” there’s no secret that Sid will retire before Nate. “If I’m retired and you’d like us to come out, then I’ll follow your lead on that one.”

Nate had grinned at him, and risked laying his head on Sid’s shoulder as they watched the sun sinking over the water.

Now, now it’s becoming more of a reality. Sid’s finishing at the end of the season – he wants to finish out the year, wants to take the Pens to one last cup, and Nate brings it up again, because he can’t not, because it’s been years since they last talked about it and it itches when he thinks about it and he hates being the worst kept secret in the league.

“When you retire….” He starts, they’re at dinner at Sid’s, a quiet moment they’ve managed to snatch one of the two times a year they play each other, “Have you given any more thought to us coming out.”

Sid stares at him, “I told you.” He says, like they’d had the conversation yesterday, “It’s your choice love, if you want to come out once I’m not playing hockey any more, then I will stand with you and do that.”

“What if it’s the next day?” Nate asks, because honestly, he can’t see putting it off much longer, he doesn’t want to put it off any longer, he wants to tell the world about Sidney Crosby, he wants them to know how much he loves him.

“I don’t care if it’s as I lift the fucking cup Nate.” Sid grins at him, “You’ve been patient for me long enough,” he reaches across the table, grabbing Nate’s hand and running his thumb across Nate’s knuckles, the familiar gesture comforting to both of them, “It’s nearly your time love.”

“That’s not…” Nate starts to protest, he’s never minded sharing the spotlight with Sid, never minded being the second best hockey player to come out of Cole Harbour, not when he gets a side of Sid that nobody else does, he gets a Sid that nobody else ever meets.

“I know,” Sid grins at him, “But this is something you’ve wanted and I’ve kept it from you because I’ve not wanted the distraction from my career,” he squeezes Nate’s hand, “The second the final is over, so is my career.” He flashes another grin at him, “So if you want to come and kiss me as I’m hoisting the cup over my head….”

Nate doesn’t think to correct him, visualisation is important to Sidney, so he lets him visualise – even if silently, it’s not Sid he’s picturing with the cup.

Skating onto the ice for Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals is an odd feeling for Sid this time around. Of course, he’s played every game as if it were his last, not knowing if they’d get this far, not being able to bank on getting this far, but even with a win under their belts, this will be his final game, and as the announcer calls his name to skate out, the crowd is deafening.

It’s a first as well, as he ends up lined up opposite Nate, which doesn’t usually happen, and he wonders whether his boyfriend had pulled a few strings with his own team, knowing where Sid would be stood so they’d be opposite. He flashes him a smile, before settling back into his usual calm headspace, soaking up the anthem, the feel of the ice under his skates. It won’t be the last time he skates, or the last time he plays in a hockey game, but it will be the last time he does this. His last game in the NHL. His last true hockey game.

He plays hard.

He plays for his life.

He plays for the cup which is arguably worth more to him.

But at the end of the day, he doesn’t play well enough, none of them do.

It’s close, it’s painfully close, but the Avs squeak in with three goals to the Pens’ two, and the sight of them pouring over the bench to congratulate each other is like a stab to the heart. He’d truly thought they could do it, truly thought they he could finish the career on a high. He’s last in the handshake line – Geno letting him go last just this once, and every single one of the Avs has something to say to him. His smile is forced, the congratulations insincere, until he hits Nate.

Nate isn’t smiling like the rest of his team, but his arms go around Sid and Sid finds himself returning the embrace.

“I’m sorry.” Nate says softly, and Sid can tell he means this, tell he’s genuinely feeling bad for winning the Stanley Cup, and he forces himself to meet Nate’s eyes.

“No,” Sid whispers softly, “Don’t be,” he reaches up a hand to cup Nate’s face, “I am so fucking proud of you.”

Nate’s face brightens, “For real?”

This time Sid’s smile is genuine, “So proud, you played incredibly.” He knocks their helmets together, knowing that will be the photograph of them that hits the media, Sid passing the mantle to Nate.

After that, it’s a little easier to shake each of Nate’s teammates by the hand, his congratulations to Gabe is sincere, captain to captain – they’ve worked for this just as hard as his boys have.

He gives a little wave to the crowd, skating around their half of the rink, waving at everyone in a yellow jersey. He’s not made a secret of his retirement plans, the whole world knows that this is Sidney Crosby’s last game, Sid The Kid, The Next One, four time Stanley cup champion, but sadly, not five.

He wraps his arms around Geno, pulling him in close, knowing that G will be hurting in the same way he is. His boys flock to him, and with them standing around him, it still hurts, but it hurts less, and he has to be strong for them.

They bring out the Conn Smythe, and the grin that breaks across his face when they call out Nate’s name is genuine, because nobody truly deserves it more, nobody played harder, and he genuinely is proud of his boy. He’s the last to skate off the ice from the Pens, the crowd are cheering his name, or at least, the Pen’s half certainly is, and more than a few in Avalanche colours.

He steps off the ice, and takes a few steps down the corridor, but then, something stops him, something pulls at him, because whilst he wouldn’t admit it on pain of death, he knows that hockey isn’t everything, winning the cup, isn’t the most important thing in his world, at least the second he stepped off the ice it wasn’t.

He takes off his helmet, and hands it off to one of the rink staff along with his stick and gloves, but then he turns back, leaning against the wall, arms folded, staring out at the ice. He joins in the cheers as Bettman brings the cup on the ice, and when he calls Gabe over to take it. Gabe does his lap of the rink, and the cheers are deafening. The Avs have been waiting a long time for this cup, they’ve been fighting hard for it. He catches Gabe’s eye as he skates past, gives him a little nod, and wonders if it’s been caught on camera – it probably has. He won’t stay for the whole thing, but he wants to see Nate skate with the cup, he deserves to see that.

Gabe hands the cup off to Nate second, of course – there are days when Nate carries the entire team on his broad shoulders, there’s no-one on that team more deserving of this cup than Nate.

As Nate skates past where Sid is stood, he comes to a halt, lifting the cup and grinning at Sid.

Sid grins at him, he can’t decide if he wants to come closer, but then Nate beckons him with his head, so he walks up to rink side.

“Good job,” he says softly, “Love you.”

“Now?” Nate’s eyes are sparkling, “You said we could now?”

Sid laughs, his, head tilting back, in that moment he couldn’t love this man more. “It’s your call.”

“Come here.” Nate can’t reach out for him with the cup hoisted above his head, and his arms must be aching, Sid knows how much that thing weighs.

Sid grins, and reaching over the gate, presses a soft kiss to Nate’s lips, “I love you,” he says again, “And I am so damn proud of you baby.”

The cheers around the stadium are deafening – there are camera bulbs going off, and Sid was wrong earlier, because that will be the photograph that’s gracing the front page of every damn newspaper in the world the next morning.

Nate leans in for another quick kiss before pushing away and skating off to his teammates, handing the cup off to EJ, and Sid takes a breath, and one last glance out at the rink, before heading back into the locker room where his team await him.

“Sid?” Geno’s standing there, phone in hand, watching live streams presumably of Sid kissing Nate.

“Holy hell Cap!” Olli is staring at him, eyes wide, “You know how to make a statement.”

Sid shrugs, before pulling his jersey off and heading to his stall for the last time, “It was Nate’s decision.” He says simply.

“I think you not want to,” Geno sits down beside him, ignoring the fact it’s not his stall.

“I didn’t want to detract from my hockey,” Sid reminds him, “I didn’t want questions and media pressure that could distract me from playing my best game.” He glances at his oldest friend, “That’s not a consideration now.”

Geno reaches out and pulls him into his arms, “Best Sid,” he says softly, “Best boyfriend for his rookie.”

“I don’t think you can call him that anymore,” Sid says softly, turning his head into Geno’s chest so no-one will be able to see the tears welling in his eyes, “He’s a bit beyond rookie.”

“You mean I have to learn name?” Geno pulls back, false astonishment on his face, and Sid’s never been more glad to have his best friend.

“You know his name, you ass.” Sid pulls himself together, stripping his clothes off as he heads towards the showers.

When he’s dressed in his suit, grateful for once that they don’t have to do media after that, they’re allowed their privacy, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, firing a quick text to Nate to find out whether they’ve left, and where they’re heading to celebrate. Next on his to-do list is grabbing one of the equipment guys, and asking for a favour.

“Anything Sid,” he says with a grin.

“It’s not an easy one,” Sid admits, “But could you talk to the Avs equipment guys, and see if they’ve got a hoody or jersey or something I can borrow.”

A frown flickers across the equipment guys face, that moment of not wanting to disappoint Sidney Crosby, but also not being entirely ok with what he’s asking for.

“If you cut me,” Sid tells him, “I bleed Penguins gold – but tonight isn’t about me.”

He gets a curt nod, and about ten minutes later, is gifted an Avs’ jersey. He grins when he unfolds it, because it’s got a 29 on it, and Nate’s name across the back. He shoves his jacket away with his tie, before turning to Geno.

“You’ve got these boys tonight yeah?” He asks softly.

“I make sure all get home safe Sid,” Geno tells him, “I play mama for you this once, Papa sid go out have fun with his boy.”

Sid nods, and then gestures to the room, “Do the thing.”

Geno claps his hands, and yells, his loud booming voice carrying across the room, “Quiet Penguin Babies. Papa Sid talk now.”

Sid rubs a hand across his face, because ‘Papa Sid’ was not what he was aiming for here, but Geno is Geno and there’s only so much you can expect from him.

“Boys,” he tells them, “Firstly, let me say how fucking proud I am of all of you. You’ve played so hard, you’ve played your best, and you’ve given me the send off that I wanted.” It’s a lie, they all know it, the send off he wanted was lifting the cup, but this comes a damn close second, “You fought to the last, and I want you to know that I love you.” There are a few laughs, and a few coos, but he waves them away, and carries on. “As you all know, this is my last night as a professional hockey player – what most of you don’t know, is I’m actually stepping into a brand new career, which starts tonight.”

There’s confusion from the rookies and vets alike, only Geno is rolling his eyes at him. They all know about Nate, sure, but he hasn’t discussed his plans for after retirement with the team.

“What new career?” One of the greenest rookies is bold enough to ask.

Sid glances at Geno, who wonders over to clap the rookie on the back, “You not know?” He’s got his usual cheeky grin, keeping the room alive even when they’re all hurting from the loss, “Sid is WAG now, he must go do new career as Avs WAG.” He gestures at Sid, “Show us new uniform Sidney.”

Sid rolls his eyes, but pulls the jersey over his head, turning around so they can all see Nate’s name and number across the back. He’s blushing when he turns back because of all the whoops and catcalls.

“Go on,” Olli shoes him out of the room, “G and I have got this, you go be a good little wife.”

“I’m not his wife.” Sid splutters, but they’re already shoving him out the door.

All these years of avoiding other teams locker rooms means he knows exactly where they are, so he heads straight for the door, wondering if he’ll be allowed in. By all rights, he should go and wait in the family room, but he doesn’t want to, he wants to see Nate, he wants to bottle Nate’s joy and take it home with them.

He’s recognised as soon as he gets through the door, of course.

“Holy Crap,” Tyson Jost is staring at him, “Am I seeing things or is that Crosby in OUR jersey?”

“Not your jersey,” He grins at the young man, before turning round so they can all see his back, the wolf whistles and cat calls echo the ones in his own locker room, and when he turns back around, there’s Nate at his side. “Hey babes,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to Nate’s cheek.

“What’s this?” Nate gestures to him, utter delight on his face.

“I told you.” Sid shoves him playfully, “I’m retiring, and coming to Denver to be your WAG.” Obviously, the fact that he’s moving to Denver to live with Nate during the season isn’t a surprise to him, more the fact that he’s there, in the jersey of the team that just stole his last opportunity at the Stanley Cup. “And,” he continues, “Partying with you after you win the cup is WAG duty number 1…”

Nate shakes his head, and pulls him in for a kiss, but then EJ is tapping Sid on the shoulder.

“You know you can’t like….” He pauses, waving his hand, “… Win at being a WAG right?”

Sid’s eyes go wide with faked shock, “I think you’ll find I can.” He grins, “I’m gonna be the best WAG there’s ever been.”


	2. The Only Way To Get Sidney Crosby Into Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I forgot I wanted this bit in here too. Have some post cup drunken shenanigans.

It’s late, and they’re all absolutely hammered. Sid is the least drunk however, because in Sid’s defense, his team didn’t actually win the cup.

Gabe mutters something in Swedish, and then frowns at himself. “We should sleep.” He says eventually in English.

“Pussy.” EJ grins at him, he’s got his fiancé holding him upright, and his words are slurring dangerously.

“What do we do with the cup?” One of the rookies asks Sid, because obviously Sid knows.

Sid gives a little shrug, “I mean, I took it to bed with me.”

“Nooooo.” Gabe moans, “Mel will kill me. I WILL BE DEAD.”

“Alright drama queen.” Nate claps him on the arm, “It’s fine. I’ll take it to bed.” He gives a smirk. “My WAG doesn’t mind.”

“HAB.” EJ tells him. “Husbandses and Boyfriendses. Also fiancés.” He frowns at Paul. “HABAF?”

“WAGAHABA….” Gabe starts, and then ends up giggling.

Sid grins, and shepherds Nate, EJ and all the remaining rookies back to Nate’s house, where with the help of Paul, they get most of them collapsed into beds or on couches.

“Nope.” Nate clutches the cup to his chest when Sid suggests leaving it with the rookies. “You got to sleep with the cup, I get to sleep with the cup.”

Sid rolls his eyes, but tugs Nate off to their bedroom.

Of course, one of the rookies wakes up disgustingly early and goes on a hunt for the cup ‘to remind himself it’s still real’ and finds it with Nate, where he’s lying in bed, curled around it, Sid plastered to his back. So of course he takes a picture, and sends it to the team group chat.

It’s Josty who puts it together with the picture of Sid from his first cup win, and puts the caption “Only way to get Crosby into bed: be the Stanley Cup.” On his Instagram… his public one.

Of course it gets shared around the world, which Sid bears with pretty good grace.

“You hate media.” Geno tells him over the phone.

“I’m a WAG now,” Sid answers back, “Like, Anna has a great online presence, that’s what I need to do.”

“You want her send tips?”

Sid nods decisively, “Yeah.” he says. Sure, others might think you can’t ‘win’ at being a WAG, but there’s nothing Sid Crosby’s found yet that he hasn't been able to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's sid asleep with the cup btw

**Author's Note:**

> come see me [@princesstillyenna](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/princesstillyenna)


End file.
